Evensong
by theskyinourhearts
Summary: Sansa is hiding from the King's Landing court in the gardens. Margaery comes to comfort her.


Okay, a one-shot just to get me started. Sansa and Margaery are perfect for each other and I reckon that a Game of Thrones fan needs all the fluff and comfort they can get. Constructive criticism is welcomed!

'I'm stupid. Stupid little girl, with stupid dreams, who never learns'

All morning, highborn ladies in airy dresses had drifted through the gardens. Lannister golds and reds, Tyrell golds and greens. They were the colours of the season. Summer robes to be worn while the sun still shone.

Sansa was marked by her gown of heavy purple. She had drawn it about herself, hoping to feel protected by the weighty swing of the fabric against her body. However, as the sun had risen, she had simply felt more and more constrained, until she wanted to scream from the constant heat.

Of course, she made no sound. She bit her tongue, smiled politely at ladies as they passed, and pressed all of her anger inwards.

At noon, rather than return to Maegor's Holdfast to eat under the Queen's ever-attentive eyes, Sansa had secluded herself in a shady arbour and hoped not to be noted by her absence.

No-one did come looking for her. She had become a ghost here. They had secured her future, bound it once more to the family that had taken her father from her. Now, quiet, obedient, biddable Sansa Stark was nothing more than a frame for a wedding dress.

Until that day, until they expected (and by the Seven, anything but that) a son from her, she could roam as she wished. The fact that she no longer belonged exclusively to Joffrey was cold comfort, but it was comfort enough, and Sansa clung to it like a shipwrecked man to wreckage.

Eventually, the heat and the comfort of her hiding place overcame Sansa and the afternoon was spent in a near trance. The constant fear of Joffrey, the threat of humiliation that waited at every misstep had worn her ragged. She welcomed the chance to escape in sleep like an old friend.

Old dreams she would have rather cast aside, dreams of knights standing tall and proud, offering favours, danced before her eyes, dancing alongside the darker inhabitants of fairytales. At first, Old Nan's creatures were fought off by the knight, as they had been when she was a young girl, only to shift before her, becoming one with him and turning, turning on her, chasing her into the darkness.

As the shadows began to lengthen, the perfumes of the garden intensified like wine. The chatter of women faded to a murmur, then nothing. Somewhere in the town, lively music started up and crept through to the palace, a rough but welcome interloper.

The cool of the evening brought peace to Sansa. The dreams receded, replaced by simple rest.

She was eventually awoken by soft laughter. She sprang to her feet, pulling her arms across her front and looked around nervously.

"Don't look so frightened, Sansa. It's only me," Margaery laughed. She stood a few paces down the twilit avenue, almost glowing in the fading light. She stepped towards Sansa and placed a hand gently on her arm. "We missed you when we were eating."

Sansa blushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to inconvenience people. Did the Queen notice?" she said quickly. She began to chew at her botttom lip.

Margaery smiled with a suggestion of sadness. A strand of red hair had escaped from its braid and fallen over Sansa's face, curling against her cheek, during her sleep. Margaery tucked it back behind her hair, much as a mother would, only she allowed her hand to linger by Sansa's neck. "Don't fret," she said softly.

"I only came to find you because I was worried you might be hungry." Sansa looked down, her dark gown reducing her to almost a shadow. "Thank you."

Now smiling slightly, Margaery seated herself where Sansa had been sleeping. Patting the bench beside her, she asked, "Would you sit with me awhile?"

Stumbling ever so slightly in her hurry to oblige, Sansa took her place beside Margaery. Margaery noted this with a small sigh. "We have made you so afraid," she said quietly.

Sansa noticed that the older girl still wore her light summer clothes, the light blue collar encircling her neck but leaving her graceful arms bare. The last dying rays of the sun caught her hair, making her a blazing spirit of autumn, rather than the summer that roses of her house always implied.

Sansa waited for Margaery to smile that smile that always threatened to turn wicked. However, she simply stared ahead, gazing up at the walls of the Red Keep with a sense of determination.

It was Sansa's turn to reach out. Her heavy sleeve dragging, she steeled herself and placed her arm around Margaery's shoulders."You must be cold."

Margaery did not immediately turn to face her. She took in a slow breath and stiffened beneath Sansa's touch as if she were lifting something that weighed a great deal. When she met Sansa's eyes, the Northerner's breath caught. Her eyes, the colour of a summer sky, glistened at the corners with tears.

Sansa felt a panic seize her. "Margaery, why are you crying? What's happened?" Her thoughts lurched to Cersei, then, as they inevitably did, to Joffrey. "Is it...is it the king?"

"No, sweet girl," Margaery replied, her voice remarkably steady, "If I am crying then I am crying for you." She raised a hand and wiped her eyes firmly.

Sansa withdrew her arm from Margaery's shoulder and clasped both her hands in hers. "Don't. Please. I'm...I'm happy here now. I don't need to be pitied." She immediately tried to retract what she'd said. "I'm glad that you thought of me but truly...I am happy."

By now, Margaery's eyes were quite dry and she had shrugged on her usual guise of the benevolent older sister like it was an old cloak. When she spoke again, her voice had not lost its playful edge but it brooked no nonsense.

"Forgive me, I had a little too much wine. I was sat on Cersei's side and she was leading by example." She looked straight into Sansa's eyes, causing her to feel a shiver inside her, like a low note played on a lyre. "However, I am not yet in my cups and I know you are not at peace. I have known it for a long time."

Her hold on Margaery's hands now being returned, Sansa allowed herself to be pulled in a little closer. A touch as gentle as a breeze turned her to face the Red Keep. By now, darkness was falling fast and the windows sent forth bright shafts of light into the gardens. Inside, figures passing casted shadows to dance on the lawns. The low-town musician had stepped up the tempo and the music whirled, spinning through the air like the dancing it must have inspired. It was a far cry from the day's earlier arid heat.

"I remember you said that you dreamt of seeing the lights of King's Landing by night," Margaery said, her mouth close to Sansa's ear, "Forget, just for now, just for a little while. Forget what has happened. It can still be beautiful here."

Sansa did as she was told. To be reminded of her own naivety stung, and for a moment tears threatened to appear. But she fought them back. The night was dark, but there was no fear here, not with Margaery's arms around her. At the edge of her mind, she could find that sense that maybe, just maybe, the proper ending to this story could be found.

So she waited. She waited of her own accord.

Eventually, Margaery spoke again. She had not let go of Sansa's hands. "I know that you have suffered, Sansa, I know that I can't make it better now, but I can start." She dipped her head to take another slow breath and when she looked up, all the playfulness had left her.

"Will you let me try, Sansa?" The request was quiet and simple. Margaery looked solemn and serious and beautiful as she never had been before. Sansa knew that there were a multitude of ways in which a trap could be sprung here, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

For a moment, she waited for the lump in her throat to pass. When she could speak again, she replied, "I don't know how long it will be before I am better. I'm never going to be that stupid girl again, not really. But could we...Could we pretend that I am?"

Margaery smiled a pale imitation of her usual grin. Her vivacity slowly returning, she took a hold of Sansa's waist.

"Of course we can, sweet girl, of course we can." With the greatest care, like a rose unfurling, she brought her lips to Sansa's. For a moment the world hung, unbalanced, then Sansa leant against her, pressed back with eagerness and stability was wonderfully restored.

There would be time later, Margaery reflected, to show Sansa that she was not stupid. There would be time to prepare her for what lay ahead, time to comfort her for the losses she would surely face. For now though, all that was needed was this kiss. They could hold one another now, safe in the knowledge that they would hold one another again. For now, this was enough.

Winter was coming, but in the garden, summer still held sway.


End file.
